Eye Contact
by BellaBurrito
Summary: Looking into Desmona Ellen's eyes could be fatal. She doesn't take off the black sunglasses of hers. MacTavish is determined to figure out why.  MW2 & MW3 spoilers! R&R please! SoapxOC


Eye contact is everything. Business. Politeness. Persuasiveness. Once you look away, you lose… everything. Your persuasiveness, your seriousness. But if you keep looking, who knows when it will ever end? The opponent must look away first. Sometimes they never do. Which is when you sacrifice one to bring in another.

Desmona was there in the Task Force. She always had dark black sunglasses on, never to take them off, even when resting. She kept a pair of light green gloves on, always.

Desmona Ellen, Desmona. Her name went around the base of the Task Force quickly. She was able to do whatever the Task Force asked her to. No one was clear why she went from Private to Sergeant in a week, and Sergeant to Captain in a month. The first time Desmona was ordered to shoot a gun for practice, it was though she had been a professional at this for years.

Then there was Captain Price and Captain MacTavish. Both cocky, yes, but Desmona thought it was amusing they way they acted. Different from her, seldom a personality she had ever seen.

_"Soap? Do you even remember having a relation with the name 'Soap?' " asked Desmona, laughing slightly. MacTavish picked at his teeth. _

_"Can't say I have." he said. Desmona squinted. Something told her he was lying. _

_"Anyway… why Viper? I bet you have no reference to the name 'Viper.' " quipped Soap. "I like snakes." growled Desmona, "Especially vipers." _

"Shepherd's men? Shepherd's men. We're going to have to hold them back…"

"Desmona prevails!" Desmona shouted, as Shepherd's men began to spread out, "God damn that scrawny git of a Shepherd! We need to warn Ghost and Roach, they probably have the DSM and are going to meet Shepherd any moment!"

Shepherd's men began to flood into Viper, Soap, and Price's tract. Desmona had lost track of where Soap and Price were, but was fine fighting them off by herself. Roach was being dragged along by Ghost, weakened.

"Roach, c'mon, just hang in there for a little while!" encouraged Ghost, trying his best to get them both away without dying.

"We… we got… got it…" panted Roach, weakened by all of the bullets received from the hundreds- maybe thousands- of men in the back.

"Get up!" shouted Ghost, slinging Roach's arm on his shoulder for support, "We're almost there!"

Shepherd's chopper flew in, the back facing the vulnerable and hurt Roach and Ghost. The back opened up, tumbling out a worried Shepherd.

"Do you have the DSM?" he asked.

"Yes, sir! We got it, sir!" informed Ghost, bringing Roach ahead to set down on the chopper.

"Good… that's one less loose end." growled Shepherd, going up to support Roach.

Shepherd put his hand on Roach's shoulder, but instead of helping him to the chopper, Shepherd pulled out his .44 magnum and shot the second most powerful bullet into Roach's stomach.

"No!" shouted Ghost, his voice cracked.

Shepherd also shot Ghost in the shoulder, and he fell down, crashing to the floor. Roach was alive, barely hanging onto the bar of consciousness; he was slowly, but surely slipping away from life. Shepherd searched Roach for the DSM; he beaconed to his men to move the two Task Force soldiers. Roach watched as Ghost tumbled into a pit beside him, his hand flying beside Roach, which indicated he was dead from the .44 bullet.

"Ghost, Roach, come in!" shouted Desmona into the radio, "This is Ellen! We're under attack by Shepherd's men! We're in the boneyard! Ghost come in, _do not trust Shepherd! _I repeat, do _not _trust Shepherd! MacTavish, get down!"

Shepherd's men poured gasoline over the two Task Force men, too weak to defend themselves. Shepherd pushed his men out of the way as he dramatically took the cigar out of his mouth and flicked it carelessly into Roach and Ghost's pit, turning around as they burned.

"Oh god, Roach, Ghost come in!" Desmona shouted again, her voice shrilled and cracked, "Ghost! Roach!"

Desmona's mouth flew open, she figured out what had happened to two of her most trusted units of the Task Force. She let her hand flop from the earpiece, almost ready to pass out.

"D-dead." she stuttered, "If only I had got to them sooner, shit. Shepherd… bastard… _fuck!_"

Desmona pounded her fists on the ground, still trying to avoid all of Shepherd's men in the boneyard.

"Shepherd betrayed us." Soap spat.

"You have to trust someone to be betrayed." Desmona remarked, "Now we just need to get the fuck out of here and kill the bastard. We may need Makarov's help, mind you. Both of them, little fucks running around like madmen-"

"Someone's got a bad temper, we need to take them all out." suggested Soap.

"Or, we can let them take each other out."

Desmona and Soap exchanged looks.

"Wait, Price! Where the hell is he? Price, come in, this is Ellen!" yelled Desmona in the radio.

"Shepherd's trying to wipe us, and Makarov out! Go to rally point Bravo, west!" Price replied.

"Trust no one." Desmona quipped before reloading her M15 and pushing her sunglasses farther up her nose.

"Not even you?" Soap laughed.

"Not even me." said Desmona, finding this piece amusing, "But you should, which is probably explaining why you're still _alive. _I've saved your dumb ass too many times."

"True, that." admitted Soap, "Now let's get across this boneyard, maybe I'll make up for it."

"Probably not, we just need to get out of here without dying, Makarov and Shepherd are doing the shit for us." laughed Desmona, "As soon as we get out of the boneyard, we re-group with Price and find a way to kill Shepherd. Deal? You can do all the heroic stuff."

"Deal." agreed Soap.

Desmona was portrayed as an oddity for being what she was. It was unusual, scary for a fact. Desmona could only remember so much, as it brainwashed her mind. She wanted to be normal. Able to forget everything that had happened in the past…

_Desmona sat on the cold marble counter. Her dark green eyes gleamed as a bottle of clear liquid was passed by her face. The wallpaper was faded yellow, peeling slowly as if aging for thousands of years. Desmona was in a small white dress, the hairs on her arms stood up. _

_"Mother… father? Why are you doing this to me?" Desmona's sweet voice echoed off the white marble walls. _

_"You were made, for this, Desmona, you hear me? Made for it. That means you are a test subject and not meant to live." scoffed her mother, filling a blue plastic cup with the clear liquid. _

_"Not meant to live?" Desmona gasped, turning away from the liquid, "I don't want to be a test subject! Please!" _

_"Do what your mother says, child, or you'll have worse consequences." growled her father, turning Desmona's head the other way. _

_"No! I don't want to!" yelled Desmona, kicking her father off, "Leave me alone! I thought I could love you!" _

_Desmona hopped off the counter as her mother grabbed her bony shoulders. _

_"Oh, don't worry… it'll only result in death, or maybe it'll be successful… who knows?" her mother asked hysterically, patting Desmona on the back to try and get her good side back. _

_"Desmona, it tastes like marshmallows…" added her father, trying to get Desmona to taste the liquid, "Yummy, oozy marshmallows hanging over the campfire… have you ever seen a campfire, Desmona?" _

_"No…" Desmona's sweet voice trailed off. _

_"If you try the chemical… you'll know what it's like to have such delicious food…" cooed her father, taking the bottled liquid and uncorking it, "I know this is what you want, Desmona. It's what I want. It's what your mother wants. It's what everyone wants, and they're all depending on you." _

_"Me?" asked Desmona, pointing to her heart, "Everyone on the entire earth is depending on me?" _

_"Yes…" whispered Desmona's mother, "If you don't take it, they'll all vanish. All of them." _

_Desmona gasped and stared into the clear serum dancing in the bottle. It seemed to all be calling to her, and her alone. She delicately took the bottle in her small, two year old hands and lifted it to her lips. As soon as it meant contact, Desmona dropped the bottle. White streaks of hair replaced her bark brown ones, and her eyes popped out. The dark green shade was gone, cracking into a bright yellow. _

_"D-Desmona… doesn't… like… the liquid…" Desmona whined, hugging her knees in pain. _

_Desmona looked up at her father. Red pupils with yellow surrounding it, long white hair and yellow tinged hands. _

_"I hate you!" she shouted in anger, hugging her knees even tighter. _

_Her mother quickly made eye contact with her husband as Desmona doubled in height, her eyes bursting in anger. _

_"Insignificant insolents!" Desmona scoffed, followed by another whine. _

_"Barthomes! We have to leave! The liquid was successful!" shouted Desmona's mother, running to the exit of the lab. _

_"Angelia! Wait up! Whatever will we do with the child super-soldier?" asked Barthomes, trying to avoid eye contact with Desmona. He knew making eye contact with something they created was not safe at the time. _

_"Put her in the British army! Make use of her; I don't want a monster like that in my house!" yelled Angelia, slipping out of the exit. _

_Barthomes followed after her, and slammed the door shut tightly, leaving Desmona inside. The liquid was successful, though he did not know the power they had created._

**A/N: How do you like it? I'm wondering if I should continue on, the idea just popped into my head! Good night/day**


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